Missed Opportunities
by hidden-in-a-tree
Summary: There are always going to be missed opportunities, and sometimes you don’t get another chance. Oneshot. Angst/Drama. Post “Grave Danger”. Nick/Greg. Slash. Greg’s POV.


**Author's Note: **Yes, I know, this story was not a planned one. Meh, sometimes the plot bunnies come and they won't let ya sleep till you've written their tail (tail, get it, 'cause they're bunnies. Har har). But I promise I will get at least one of my planned stories up sometime soon. I hope. It'd most likely be the continuation story, and I guess I'll let you know that it's a continuation of "Eight Years into Never". That's for all those who wanted a continuation—you finally get it. xD

Oneshot. Angst/Drama. Post "Grave Danger". Nick/Greg. Slash. Greg's POV.

**Disclaimer: **The song is "Crash and Burn" by Savage Garden. It's a truly beautiful song.

**Acknowledgements: **A sincere and heartfelt thank-you to Amanda for proofreading my story and also making my day.

**Summary: **There are always going to be missed opportunities, and sometimes you don't get another chance.

**Missed Opportunities**

Greg pulled his jacket closer to his body, trying to keep some of the warmth that was trying to escape when he walked out of the crime lab and into the underground parking lot. It was chilly in the early morning; the sun had not yet risen over the Nevada desert. Quickly, he tucked his bag into the crook of his arm and trotted toward his black car. Fumbling with the key, he put it into the ignition, a smile spreading over his face as heat flooded through the vehicle. He sighed, glancing at the empty parking spot to his left. A pang shot through his body—that was Nick's parking spot, and it had been empty since the night he was taken. The night that he had been put into a living hell, feet below the surface of the earth … the night he had almost taken his own life.

Greg shuddered, closing his eyes tightly. He didn't want to think about that night. He didn't want to think about how his friend had looked with the gun in his mouth. He didn't want to think about how close they had all gotten to losing him forever. Without thinking, he brushed away a tear and turned on the radio, spinning the dial aimlessly. He just wanted some sort of noise, anything to get away from the silence. The silence of the parking lot, the silence of his car, the silence between him and Nick …

He finally stopped on a station that had a song that'd just started. The opening was soothing, and as soon as the melodious words began, all the thoughts stopped dead in Greg's mind.

_When you feel all alone  
And the world has turned its back on you  
Give me a moment, please, to tame your wild, wild heart  
I know you feel like the walls are closing in on you  
It's hard to find relief, and people can be so cold  
When darkness is upon your door, and you feel like you can't take anymore_

_Let me be the one you call  
If you jump, I'll break your fall  
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night  
If you need to fall apart  
I can mend a broken heart  
If you need to crash, then crash and burn  
You're not alone_

Numbly, Greg turned off the radio. It was as if this song was relative to what he had been thinking, what he had been feeling. He needed to be there for Nick. So what if his friend hadn't called him in a while? Maybe he was just tired or maybe he didn't feel like saying he needed someone right now. Nick could be pretty stubborn at times. He wasn't the best guy for saying that he needed help, and a good friend should have been there for him anyways.

Greg rolled his eyes at himself and swallowed his wounded pride. He was going to see Nick, and it didn't matter what hadn't been said between them. He was always going to be there for his friend, and at this point in time, Greg figured Nick needed _someone_.

* * *

There was only one solitary light on in Nick's house when Greg pulled up. The morning sunshine was finally starting to brighten up the quiet neighborhood, and Greg could tell the city was starting to wake up again. He turned off his car, staring nonplussed at the desolate house. It used to be teeming with life, but now … now it just looked dark. Depressing.

Before he could chicken out, Greg got out of his car and went up the front steps. He knocked lightly and took a step back. A few moments went by, but he finally heard someone on the other side of the door. It opened slowly to reveal Nick standing there, a slightly puzzled look on his face.

"Hey," Greg said, smiling at his long-time friend. "You look a lot better." And it was true. Nick was wearing a long, dark green sweater, and he was wearing black trousers. His face still had a few scratches, and Greg could see the last remaining ant bites on his hands. Nick's eyes also looked different—they were almost listless, dark, morbid. He also had bags under his eyes, and he looked as if he hadn't been sleeping well. Greg kicked himself internally. Of course Nick wasn't sleeping well—who could, after what he'd just been through?

"Thanks," Nick finally answered. He cast a quick glance around before asking, "So, uh, what are you doing here?"

Greg was stung. Why couldn't he come visit his friend? "I was just stopping by to check on you. You shouldn't be alone after … after what happened."

"I haven't been alone. A friend of mine just left, and Sara and Cath said they'd be over later," Nick replied, waving his hand vaguely.

Greg could only say, "Oh," and they fell silent. The younger man felt as if he was deflating. There he was, feeling as if he was being the bigger man by stopping by after weeks of silence, only to find that Nick didn't need him. That Nick had other friends, and that he, Greg, had been forgotten. Or omitted, but he didn't want to think that way. The Texan hadn't been treating him this way on purpose, had he? He'd done nothing to warrant this behavior.

"So … uh, do you want to come in?" Nick questioned the younger man. Greg blinked and nodded, remembering that he was still standing at the Texan's front door.

Nick backed into the house, allowing Greg to enter. The house was warm and dark, and it was a welcome change from the cool morning. The younger man hung up his coat on the coat rack and wandered over to the leather couch in Nick's living room. He plopped down on to it, trying to feel at ease as he glanced around at the messy room. There were DVD cases all over the coffee table, the couch's A&M blanket balled up on the floor, and there were two empty coffee cups on the side table.

"So how have you been doing lately, Nicky?" Greg asked amicably, turning to gaze at the Texan.

"Oh, I've been okay," Nick said airily. An extremely uneasy silence fell over both men. Nick shuffled his feet awkwardly and leaned forwards to straighten up some of the DVD cases on the coffee table.

Greg felt his jaw tense up in anger. "I don't understand you, Nick."

Nick stopped. "What do you mean?"

"Why haven't you been inviting me over?"

"I—uh—what?" Nick spluttered, his face going red.

"Why is it that you've got Sara and Catherine dropping by, but you didn't even invite me once over these past three weeks?"

Nick ran a hand through his hair, making it stand on edge. He muttered something under his breath, but Greg caught every word.

"You didn't want me to come over, is that it?"

Nick looked at Greg, a frenzied expression on his face. "No, that's not it at all, I—"

Greg shook his head and stood up. He turned his back on the Texan and headed for the door. He grabbed his coat and started putting it on. Without looking back, he said, "Whatever. I thought we were friends. I thought you needed me to be here for you, but I guess I was mistaken."

The younger man wrenched open the door, but he stopped dead when he heard a piteous noise from behind him. It almost sounded as if a little child had said his name softly, but …

Greg turned, dreading what he was about to see. Nick was staring at him imploringly, tears running down his cheeks. His lips were trembling, and Greg could see that his shoulders were quaking.

All the fight left Greg as he looked at his friend, silently crying all by himself.

"Please don't go," Nick whispered, his words soft. Greg shut the door and put his coat back onto the rack. He took a few steps into the living room, but he didn't sit down on the couch. He waited; he knew an explanation was inevitable. Nick didn't stop crying, though, and Greg didn't know what to do.

"Nick, it's okay. I'm sorry I got mad—I know you didn't mean it like that. Please don't cry," he said weakly.

Nick shook his head. "That's not why I'm crying," he choked out.

The younger man ran a hand across his face. He could feel a headache coming on. Sighing, he went to sit down beside the Texan, and he asked him why he was crying. Nick sniffled once and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. He turned his watery eyes on Greg, and he said that he was crying because he was mad at himself, mad that he almost …

"Almost what?" Greg inquired gently, leaning closer to Nick.

The older man took a deep, shuddering breath. "Almost lost you a second time."

Greg was taken aback. He hadn't been expecting this at all. He could see the grimness in Nick's eyes, the pain that he was going through. He leaned forward a bit more and asked the older man what he meant.

The Texan swallowed and turned away, clasping his hands tightly in his lap. He sniffled again, wiping his eyes once more before speaking. "When I was in … the box, when the gun was in my mouth, all I could think about was how I was going to lose you. You were the one person I'd loved ever since I met you, and I'd had all those chances to tell you that, and I never did. And today, when you were about to walk out the door, I felt the same feelings of fear, of hopelessness. The same lost chances."

Greg felt tears pricking at his eyes and his jaw trembled. He reached forward and gently grasped both of Nick's cold hands in his own. The older man turned to look at him, more tears leaking out of his eyes. Those beautiful, chestnut brown eyes that Greg had fallen in love with.

"No, Nicky," he whispered, his voice hoarse, "you wouldn't have lost me that day, I would have lost you."

Nick completely broke down, his face crumpling with pent up tears. The sobs shook his body, and he threw his arms around Greg's neck, crying into his shoulder. The younger man could feel Nick's body shaking, and gently stroked the older man's head, his brown hair soft beneath his hand.

"I'm sorry I didn't want you to come around much, I just … I couldn't deal with it," Nick finally muttered, his voice choked with tears. "I couldn't deal with what I'd almost lost. Whenever you came to visit, all I could see were those chances. The opportunities I'd never taken."

Greg tightened his hold on the older man, drawing him closer. "Whenever I came to visit, all I could see was the man that I loved, and the man that I almost lost. And now, Nicky … now we shouldn't have any more missed chances. We're both here, we're both alive, and I don't want to lose this again."

The Texan started to sob all over again, and Greg could feel his shoulder start to get soggy, but he didn't care much. He wanted to sit here forever, feeling the solidness of Nick, the feeling of his hair, the smell of him. He never wanted to leave Nick's presence.

"Greg," Nick said, his words muffled, "I love you."

The younger man couldn't hold back his emotions any longer. He rested his face against the top of Nick's head as the tears streamed down his cheeks. His lips trembled and he squeezed the Texan harder.

"I love you, too, Nicky," Greg whispered. "I love you, too."


End file.
